Too fucking extreme.
In the cramped dressing room, the spine of Manager Hong felt icy cold, a chill spreading from her tailbone to the crown of her head.
"Jiang Ling, calm down."
She wasn't sure about others, but she had watched Jiang Ling slowly climb from a little singer to the position of a minor diva—although this diva title was quite inflated.
This person had a complicated makeup, a somewhat paranoid character, and in recent years, as she got older, she had become even more insane. What she said was not just talk; she meant business.
If it weren't for her paranoia, desperate to become famous, no sane person would sign the bullshit contract that the company's higher-ups slapped together.
"I'm very calm right now, Manager Hong, and I'm planning to buy songs first."
Jiang Ling touched her face, seemingly contemplative, not hiding her intention to switch companies at all. She plotted loudly without any regard for her agent.